We Get Along
by igetaround
Summary: Blair has a less than enjoyable morning after. BlairChuck. R&R, pleeeeease?
1. Ghost in the Sheets

"Fuck."

Blair Waldorf glanced at the Cartier watch hanging off of her tiny wrist. 10:45. She was officially already half an hour late to Sunday brunch with Serena and... oh God, just saying the name pained her... Dan Humphrey. She flipped open the cell phone that lay on the nightstand next to her. _4 NEW TXT MSGS FROM: S._

_B – At home on a Sat. night? Eleanor claims u r, to my mom at least. Whatever r u doing? – S_

_B – Fine, don't tell me. But u must spill tmrw... – S_

_B – Don't forget. 10:15. A Van der Woodsen get-2gether for my 2 fav. ppl. – S_

_B – Where r u? – S_

"FUCK."

Being as quiet as she could, she slid off the bed, threw on her black silk Oscar de la Renta dressing gown, and began to frantically search through her vast closet for something appropriate to wear. Something that said, "Hello, I'm late to this little gathering because I got caught up in the utterly fascinating world of my AP US History textbook" and not "Sorry, I just woke up because I'm super exhausted from my night of sluttery!" She stood in front of the racks and racks of clothes, completely oblivious to the mound of clutter she was creating as she threw the rejected outfits onto the floor. A hot pink Diane von Furstenberg skirt that her mother told her was "cute in theory, but _so_ unflattering on the body" with the tone in her voice clearly indicating that "_the_ body" really meant "_Blair's_ body", a turquoise C & C California tank top that Blair could only describe as "too _Laguna Beach_", an overly sexy red Herve Leger dress... the last option seemed especially hilarious, especially considering the dress had always been Blair's go-to whenever she wanted to "dress to kill." Who would she be trying to impress if she wore it to her brunch? Dan Humphrey? A boy who seemed to take great pride in being awkward, neurotic, and so blessed in schoolbook intellectualism that God seemed to have forgotten to give him the all-important knowledge of how to speak to a girl ? Please. Dan needed to be working to impress _her_ at this meeting – in the wise words of the Spice Girls, "if you wannabe my lover, you gotta get with my friends." Ew. Had Blair really just thought about Spice Girls lyrics? Snapping out of this momentary space-out, Blair cast more and more items to the floor, her patience waning and her ferocity increasing by the second. Finally, she came upon exactly what she was looking for.

Her "nothing-to-wear" day staple: a simple black James Perse sheath dress. So chic. So classic. So very Audrey. It was perfect. Exactly what she wanted.

Because Audrey never had meaningless sex. Audrey never lost her virginity in the back of a limousine to her ex-boyfriend's best friend. And even if she had, she never, ever, ever would have let it happen again. And again... and again. Audrey was graceful and poised and classy and just... flawless. She never had to deal with the stupid problems Blair did, because her life was faultless. And however petty and stupid it was, when Blair wore her sleek little black dress, she felt like that kind of life was within reach for her. It was just the boost she needed to get her feeling like she was ready to go to this meal with Serena and her boy-toy. After removing her dressing gown, she grinned down at the dress in her hands and slipped it over her head. She next turned her attention toward the multitude of shoes meticulously organized into rows on the floor. The selection process for her footwear was considerably briefer than the search for clothing had been, as she immediately slid her Chanel Vamp-painted toes into a pair of gorgeous embellished Valentino flats. With her outfit on and ready, she approached the mirror in front of her bed and began the precise application of her makeup. First a coat of deep black mascara, then a bit of concealer to cover the effects of last night, a swipe of deep red lipstick...

"Well, well, well. Looks like I've finally found someone who takes just as long to get ready as I do."

Startled, Blair's eyes moved from her own image in the mirror to the reflection of the boy sitting up in her bed.

"Ugh. Be more obsessed with yourself?"

"Impossible... You don't need all that make-up, you know. You're stunning without it, actually."

She could feel a smile starting to wash over her lips, but she killed it before it ever got a chance to show itself. She simply cleared her throat awkwardly.

"So, you've just been watching me get dressed? Huh... I'm impressed. Your creepiness has truly exceeded my expectations."

"Thank you. And feel free to thank me..."

"For what?"

"Oh, I don't know. The birthday necklace..."

"Mom would have bought it for me anyway."

"The company..."

"Please. Serena would have been here in a second if I wanted _company_."

"The mind-blowing sex..."

"Don't flatter yourself."

Blair took one last look in the mirror before placing a pair of large, dark sunglasses on her face. Never before had she so passionately hoped that they really did, as some say, cover a multitude of sins. God knows she needed it.

"_I_ didn't. You did. Or was that another voice I heard moaning for God, over and over, all night?"

Suddenly extremely thankful that her oversized eyewear concealed the shock that she knew was making her eyes widen and turning her cheeks a bright red, Blair reminded herself to play it cool. Without turning to face him, she sauntered out of the room and waved her arm over her head nonchalantly.

"You're disgusting, Bass."

"You enjoy it, Waldorf."


	2. Don't Tell on Me, I Won't Tell on You

"_Blair._ You mean to tell me that you were late to this because you were screwing Chuck Bass all night?!"

Blair should not have told Serena. No, she definitely should not have told Serena. What was she thinking? Secret affairs are supposed to be kept just that... secret. And Blair had just blown her own cover. Fantastic.

"INSIDE VOICES, S. And please don't use the term 'screwing', it sounds so... tawdry."

"We're talking about sex with Chuck here. 'Tawdry' is what he _does._"

"I know! I know, okay? I shouldn't be continuing to let it happen, but he... has an effect on me."

"B, it's called herpes and it's highly contagious and incurable."

"Shut up! I'm serious. I know, it's wrong, so, so, _so_ wrong, but... and I know this is falling into extreme Britney-Spears-circa-2001 cliché

here, but sometimes, it just feels..."

"Right?"

"Exactly."

"No. No, no, no, no, no, no... you are not falling for Chuck Bass. This is not good. _So_ not good."

"Are you kidding? No. No, I'm not falling for _Chuck._ I'm just... amusing myself until Nate comes to his senses. That's all."

Serena cocked an eyebrow warily.

"You're sure Chuck is just a distraction? B, I just don't want to see you get hurt again."

"Me? Please. I guarantee, I am only using Chuck for the sex... which, by the way, is fucking _incredible_."

"I'm not surprised, with all the practice that boy gets..."

An uncomfortable "ahem" interrupted the girlish giggles the friends had erupted in.

"Guys... uh... just... a sidenote... I'm... also... in here... as well..."

The two girls, for the first time all morning, turned to glare at the lanky, dark-haired boy sitting across the table from them who was waving to them, and they seemed to read each other's minds in terms of how to respond to his sudden outburst: a sing-songy, unison chorus of "Shut up, Dan."

"Sorry, sorry. Blair, if you'll deign to speaking to common folk like me for a second, I just want to point out something: you really sound like you... like him, and..."

"Daniel. Humphrey. Do not. Ever. Talk to me. About. How I feel. Understood?"

The brunette's condescending, slow, staccato speech and searing expression seemed to cut through Dan's skin. Even though she wore a fake, supposedly "non-threatening" smile the entire time, the effect was less like an innocent child and more like a tiger bearing its teeth before going in for the kill.

"Fine. I mean, good... that's... good... that you don't _like_ Chuck. He's an asshole. What contributions does he make to society? I mean, aside from being a creepy elitist would-be rapist... Honestly, I can't think of any redeeming qualities about his existence on the planet. In fact, I – "

"That's enough, Humphrey."

Blair's quickness to defend Chuck surprised even her. She shook her head, trying to convince herself that the reason she wanted Dan to stop talking was because he was doing that annoying "thinking-out-loud" thing that caused him to ramble nonsensically like a kindergartener on cocaine (Serena called it "adorably awkward"; Blair called it "endlessly irritating") and not because she hated hearing people insult Chuck. As if it were a sign from God, her purse started vibrating. She peeked inside it and saw her cell phone blinking. _1 NEW TXT MSG FROM: C._ She immediately flipped it open.

_B – Come over soon. I'm a very impatient man. – C_

She eyed the text message, giving it multiple readings while doing her best to look unfazed.

_C – I'm not one of your usual whores who let you control them. What makes you so certain that I'm going to follow your orders? – B_

_B – Probably because you want it just as much as I do. – C_

With that, Blair rose from her place at the table, collecting her navy trench coat and her purse. She didn't really know what she was doing; all she knew was that she wanted Chuck. It pained her to admit it to herself; that she, in a way, needed him. Even though he was heinous 90 of the time, there was this elusive 10 of him that made her feel special when he looked at her. Like he didn't know that her best friend was a golden goddess, like he didn't know that she was always a disappointment to her mother, like he didn't know that she wasn't even good enough to be loved by the one person she had wanted her entire life. Chuck made her feel wanted. She knew it was wrong, but she still wanted to continue it, and she couldn't even begin to comprehend why. Her mind was all jumbled, and all she knew was that for some inexplicable reason, she wanted Chuck Bass. And if she couldn't explain it to herself, she sure as hell couldn't explain it to anyone else, much less Serena. As she stood, Blair decided that the time that she and Chuck spent together needed to be kept secret. It was better for everyone this way, and Jesus, was it hot.

"Where are you going?"

"I completely forgot... SAT tutor."

"On the weekend?"

"Come on, S. Yale does not take 'the weekend' as an excuse not to work, so neither does Blair Waldorf."

"Alright, B. Starbucks before school tomorrow?"

"Perfection."

With a flick of her long, chocolate curls and a courteous wave to Dan, Blair walked out of the van der Woodsen abode. As soon as she was out the door, she opened her phone, dialing a familiar number...

"Blair. I'm assuming you've decided to succumb to my will? Am I that irresistible?"

"Hardly. Put on your best scarf, bitch, I'm coming over."


End file.
